


No Matter How You Slice It

by Treeni



Series: Soulmate September [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Cutting, Dark, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Disabled Janus, Dukexiety - Freeform, Graphic Description, Graphic imagry, Hurt/Comfort, It's dark in the beginning ya'll, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-degradation, Soulmates, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides), Thank you Pal, Things Get Better, and you have some angst!, angst everywhere, technically, you have some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26375080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treeni/pseuds/Treeni
Summary: Day 6 - When your soulmate is injured you will experience pain in that area.DukexietyRemus feels his soulmate attempt to commit suicide and goes to extreme lengths to try and stop it.TW: This story is dark, and graphic with suicide not only mentioned, but an attempt is made in graphic detail. Please please please if you're a fan of my work don't force yourself to read this one if you're not in the head-space for it. I don't want to trigger anyone. This will likely be the very darkest thing I write for Soulmate September, so check back soon for the next one if you're looking for something more light-hearted.If you are unsure, but are planning on chancing it anyway because you like or trust my writing, please please please, I urge and beg you to jump to the first break in the story. You should be able to fill in the blanks while avoiding being triggered. Only read from beginning to end if you are certain you can handle it. Please mind the tags.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Series: Soulmate September [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906129
Comments: 45
Kudos: 229





	No Matter How You Slice It

**Author's Note:**

> Partially edited, I need some time with something lighter before I check back for a final read through.
> 
> TW: This story is dark, and graphic with suicide not only mentioned, but an attempt is made in graphic detail. Please please please if you're a fan of my work don't force yourself to read this one if you're not in the head-space for it. I don't want to trigger anyone. This will likely be the very darkest thing I write for Soulmate September, so check back soon for the next one if you're looking for something more light-hearted.
> 
> If you are unsure, but are planning on chancing it anyway because you like or trust my writing, please please please, I urge and beg you to jump to the first break in the story. I have it labeled as a "Safety break" You should be able to fill in the blanks while avoiding being triggered. Only read from beginning to end if you are certain you can handle it. Please mind the tags.
> 
> Like, when I say this is dark and visceral, I mean it. Some of my professors absolutely refused to use trigger warnings for their students, which bothered me because I ended up with some nightmares I wasn't prepared for. So in return I started writing in a way that was so deeply graphic and descriptive that it was intended to bother even someone who was neurotypical so they'd get some understanding of what they were doing. It worked and they started taking requests for trigger warnings for the syllabuses. I don't write this way often, but my own experiences coupled with my time volunteering at a suicide hotline has made me more than capable of it. Even with me taking out some of the absolutely worst imagery, its still very very raw. 
> 
> Please note that this isn't a fic meant to be pro-suicide, quite the opposite actually. Just two, broken people trying to reach each other.
> 
> Please Please Please be safe:  
> WHO Suicide Prevention: https://www.who.int/health-topics/suicide#tab=tab_1  
> Lifeline Suicide Prevention Hotlines: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/talk-to-someone-now/

FUCKING HELL!

Remus needsneedsneedsneeds-

He let out a growl, instantly startling a nearly-sleeping Janus awake and into a sitting position. He had been just curled up in a blanket cocoon next to Remus’ previously sprawled form that was star-fished across a good ninety percent of the couch. It would have been a hundred percent if he were a little taller.

Not that it mattered.

He was on his feet now.

“Rem? What’s happening?” Janus asked, rubbing the sleep from his chestnut colored eye. The real one.

The one that hadn’t been squished like a grape under a boot heel when Janus had been crushed under the flipped car of a drunk driver.

That day, while sitting in the waiting room for hours as Remus’ _very best friend_ was pulled from the brink of death, over and over again was the day that Remus learned that life wasn’t fair.

The driver of course, walked away completely unscathed.

However, it was that night when he realized life was truly, specifically, out to get him and those around him when he finally made his way home only to find worried, hesitant looks on his parents faces as they waited up for him on the sofa. They told him not to disturb his brother, that his soulmate had gone through something traumatically painful and had shared that pain with Roman. After pressing for details (because god damn nothing was going to get him to stop asking) he found out that Roman had suddenly sagged in place until all at once he collapsed. It was later on, however, that he woke up screaming out in sheer, uncontrolled pain as he called out Remus’ name, his _twin’s name,_ in search of some kind of comfort in their brotherly connection.

The brother that _hadn’t been there_.

So Remus didn’t expect much from life these days.

After all, who could have predicted that his best friend and his twin brother were soulmates? That Roman had physically felt every bit of pain that Janus had suffered that day. Remus sure as hell wasn’t expecting it. Before that point it had always seemed as if the pair had hated each other, trading constant insults and sometimes threats that they would never make good on, no matter how many weapons Remus tried to shove into their hands so he could watch the battle royal.

However, that was all _before_ the “accident.”

Remus called it attempted-fucking-murder and was ready to hunt the fucker down. He absolutely would have if not for Janus holding him back.

Remus let out a low growl again. It was more of a rumble that tumbled from him in his agitation than any kind of true threat. “They’re fucking _doing it again_.”

Janus, who knew him better than anyone -even better than his own twin- showed no signs of disturbance and simply crawled out of his blanket mountain with only a single sheet wrapped over his head and around his torso like a shitty attempt at a cape. The man wordlessly clicked his prosthetic leg back onto the liner and stood with more grace than anyone with two false limbs and a lack of depth perception should be capable of, but then again, Janus was always the type to rise to a challenge.

Remus ignored him and stormed out of the living room at a speed he knew Janus wouldn’t be able to keep up with and toward his desk. His eyes swept over the cluttered surface of seemingly nonsensical art supplies. Pencils. Paper. Deceased insects. Pastels. Clay. Unmarked jars containing unidentified substances. Biodegradable glitter. A bottle of fluorescent pink acrylic paint. Markers. Ink. Small rodent bones.

No pens.

Remus threw open a drawer.

Penspenspenspenspenspens.

Where were the pens?!

A second drawer followed the first with that rolling, almost grinding noise that always ended with a distinct ‘ _clonk’_ sound. He shuffled through it, shoving aside a bunch of random things that had collected over the years. Everything from receipts and hot sauce packets to a pair of women’s glittering pantyhose from who the fuck knows where-

-wait, the maid costume from last Halloween, that’s right-

Remus chomped down his molers and resisted the urge to grind them as another wave of stinging pain overtook his senses. His mind went completely blank and every nerve felt like it was on _fire_. There was only pain, painpainpainpainpain. Only the familiar drag of a blade carving deep into the flesh of his forearms, slicing straight through the skin and into the underbelly of gooey muscle tissue, veins, and-

FUCK.

The motherfucker hit bone.

The pain was localized, but Remus suddenly hurt _everywhere_ as his every muscle clenched tightly. Like hands and arms do when pulling a rope or legs do when a heavy object is being lifted. For Remus though?

_It was everything._

He felt like he was being pulled in all directions at once. His muscles were taut, strained, and close to spasm as his skin felt like it was being stretched and remolded around pressure-held muscles, like cake fondant in the hands of a shitty baker. Like the whole world around him was closing in and would crush him like putty in a hydraulic press, into splattering gooey bits of gelatinous blood and guts and bone that blended into each other indistinguishably.

Like if he tried to let go, for even one instant they would be gone from him.

Out of his reach.

Again.

Distantly, he could feel a hand being placed onto his shoulder, but it didn’t feel real. Or maybe it was his shoulder that didn’t feel real. Being touched, but not touched. It felt more memory than reality. Like trying to hear a voice from underwater. Like trying to see through frosted glass. Like his nerves trying to interpret an external sensation through an overwhelming wave of paresthesia. Like he was numb.

Pens.

He needed pens.

Remus pulled away from the maybe-touch and threw open the next drawer, finally finding his stash of cheap bic pens that he kept for this very reason. He grabbed one and instantly slammed the chewed up cap on the back of it. (A pen missing its cap might as well be dead to him. He had _standards_ after all.) Remus tested it once straight on the wood of his desk, not giving a shit that another line was added to the plethora of random marks and questionable stains. The pen drew true and he immediately let himself fall into a sitting position on the floor that would leave him with a bruised ass later with the pen still in hand.

Old reliable bics.

The shitty kind of pens that would make your hand cramp if you used them for too long. They were the shitty kind of pens that sometimes tore the paper because the ink was more solid than liquid and the ball of it would sometimes catch on the fibers, but the fuckers seemed to be able to write on _anything_.

As soon as he was down, Remus immediately jammed the pen into the spot he currently felt being sliced open, the very skin of his forearm that felt like it was being practiced on by a butcher in training who had no fucking idea what they were doing, and started to drag it over where it felt like marks _should be_. Blood should be pouring down his arms, down his torso, staining his pants legs and the carpet below him.

Remus kept drawing, _hard_ into his inner forearm and leaving ink against angry red marks, matching the marks of the blade he could _still feel._ When that was finished and he felt the metal pause in its trek toward slicing into a major artery, he drew letters, over and over again.

S T O P I T S T O P I T S T O P I T.

**S. T. O. P. I.T.**

It was enough for the feeling of the implement to finally slip away, leaving only the sensation of raw, cut flesh behind, still stinging in the open air.

God, it really felt like they were trying to kill themselves this time.

Remus let the pen fall out of exhausted fingertips and roll against the carpet beneath him.

He’d probably never find the fucking thing again, but there was a reason the things were so easily replaceable. Maybe he’d just nab one from the next bank he went to simply to watch the teller shoot him a dirty look. Remus let his head conk back against the wall behind him, not worrying about the dizzying sensation he felt on impact.

It was fine.

He was fine.

He just hoped his soulmate was still alive.

“Oh Rem...” a honeyed voice whispered in front of him. “What have they done to you?”

A hand reached out to his knee and he felt a gloved thumb tracing little circles into his thigh. He didn’t move, but he did glance out of the corner of his eye to see Janus kneeling in front of him. Something that was a feat with the prosthetic. Janus was always a real champ about it, always claimed that the extra effort it took to do even simple things like kneeling didn’t bother him, but Remus knew better. He knew it was a pain in the ass for him. Remus knew _he_ was a pain in the ass for him. Remus was here because he was supposed to be the one taking care of _Janus_ , not the other way around.

And yet, here he was.

They just sat there for a long moment in the quiet. Burdened under the heavy atmosphere of the room. Of the realization that life was a cruel and unfeeling bitch that didn’t give shit about them. They just sat for a moment in the way that only broken people could. Remus felt something vaguely wet on his face and Janus was wrapped around him before he could even process the fact that he was crying.

“Shhhh, Remus, it’s okay,” Janus whispered, using his prosthetic hand to pet Remus’ curls while his other was wrapped around Remus’ side, warm and solid and _real._

He leaned into the contact and let his head fall uselessly from the wall and onto Janus’ shoulder.

Sometimes Remus missed when Janus still had all of his limbs and he held Remus tightly in a grip that he could get lost in, that was all-encompassing, a grip that truly quieted Remus’ near constant racing thoughts. But then Remus would remember why Janus didn’t hug him that way any longer and just hate himself more.

It’s not like it was something that Janus could help.

“Why would they do this again Jay?” Remus muttered, muffled by the fabric of the sheet still around his friends shoulders. “Why can’t they wait for me?”

Janus only held him tighter and let his forehead press into Remus’ hair as if to say ‘ _I’m here. I promise’_ and slowly began to rock Remus at the waist while humming a tuneless melody that was more vibration against Remus’ skull than sound.

“Why can’t I be enough?”

The words tumbled from Remus’ lips involuntarily and Janus immediately froze, pausing his ministrations that comforted Remus so. He cursed himself for letting that particular thought out, for letting Janus hear it. Of course he wasn’t enough, of course he was the lesser brother. Once upon a time, Remus thought he and Janus might have been soulmates. Once upon a time, Remus thought they would have lived happily ever after. That they’d be together forever and happy because having each other was _enough_.

But Janus had Roman.

The superior twin.

Of _course_ Remus wasn’t enough.

Janus gave him a watery stare, on the brink of crying himself and Remus could see the heartbreak shining in his eye. God Remus was a shitty friend. He shouldn’t be doing this to him. After everything he’s been through already, Janus deserved so much better.

“Remus, please listen to me,” Janus said in a low tone. Something more than a whisper, it had the tone of a lecture almost, but sweeter, gentler.

Janus pulled away from his place wrapped around Remus to kneel in front of him and Remus only wanted to cry more at the loss of contact. To whine pathetically like a child and pull him back to reestablish the hold that was _almost_ like it used to be. He forced himself to resist the urge, he knew he couldn’t force Janus love to him. Countless failed attempts had taught Remus as much. Janus loved _Roman_.

 _Everyone_ loved Roman.

Remus was tolerated at best.

It took Janus longer to adjust himself than it would have an abeled bodied person as he tried to balance himself on his knees, gaining a rare height advantage against Remus that he used to stare down hard at the usually taller man. There was something intense in his expression, almost angry, but not directed at him. Angry at the world maybe? Remus wasn’t sure. Janus leaned forward and reached with both arms to cradle Remus’ cheeks in his hands, one real, one fake.

“You are enough,” Janus said and his voice was clear, but Remus couldn’t bring himself to believe the words. “You have always, _always_ been enough. I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.”

“You have Roman,” Remus muttered, breaking eye-contact after squirming under Janus’ intense stare.

He was never very good at holding back his thoughts.

“And somewhere out there, you have a soulmate who is struggling, maybe even because they don’t understand what a wonderful person they’re still missing. Remus, I am so _so_ thankful that I have been given the chance to borrow your attention from them for this long. I can only hope I am able to express the depth of that gratitude to them someday.”

Janus’ words were as sweet as his voice and Remus tried to listen to him. He tried to let go and believe the lies that his friend was trying to feed him. He tried to force a smile so Janus wouldn’t worry anymore. His mouth stretched uncomfortably and it felt all wrong, it felt forced and a little painful. When Janus frowned at him he knew it must have turned into more of a grimace than anything.

“I think I’m just gonna get some work done Janny,” Remus said and tried shifting himself off the floor, but Janus wasn’t having it.

Janus immediately moved his hands to instead grip Remus’ shoulders and held him in place. “You _aren’t_ running away from this Remus!”

“Watch me,” Remus said, stubbornly sliding to the side and bouncing to his feet in a fluid twist of his legs that ended at the balls of his feet. Remus thought he was finally free of the scrutiny, but Janus grabbed hold of his ratty t-shirt and refused to be moved as they both heard the tiny _‘placks’_ of snapping seams.

Janus glanced down at the sound, but absolutely refused to lessen his grip even slightly. They both knew that given any kind of slack and Remus would simply slip out of the garment and parade shamelessly around without a shirt.

“Remus, I want to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m _handling_ it!” Remus insisted, trying to tug himself free.

“No you’re not!” Janus insisted and pulled back, “How many times have you had to go through this? How much pain have you been _put_ through?!”

“I don’t give a shit about the pain.”

“I _do_! _I_ care about it Remus! I’m not letting you just push me away! You aren’t going through this alone, dammit!”

“I’m _HANDLING IT!”_ Remus insisted, stomping his foot for emphasis as he gave one, final tug, putting his weight into the motion.

He had expected to be released.

He had expected Janus to lose his grip.

He had _not_ expected that the force would send Janus flying.

If he were Roman, he was certain it would have been like an old movie cliche. If he were Roman, he would have found someway to dive and catch the man. If he were Roman, Janus would have fallen straight into his arms and he would have been able to apologize and give sweet, honest promises over and over again about how it would never happen again and they would both trust it to be true. Then again, if he were Roman it never would have happened at all.

Instead, Remus watched in horror as Janus slipped away from him and straight into the edge of his desk before crumpling listlessly onto the thin carpet. His wrist in particular, the real one, seemed to take the brunt of the damage as it hit the edge of the desk at an awkward angle. Janus looked so tiny sitting there, curled up against the corner where the desk met the wall, the aforementioned wrist tucked against his chest as his all of the other limbs, real or fake, curled around it protectively, like a shield.

Janus seemed so small for someone who always seemed to harness the atmosphere of the room like a master musician honing their very favorite instrument. Someone who could play the people around him like a professional clarinetist could so easily jam out on a cheap plastic children’s recorder. He seemed so very, concerningly small for someone who always seemed so much larger than life.

So very, very breakable.

It was then that Remus realized he was dangerous.

Even when he didn’t mean to be.

“‘m so-”

All Remus could hear was the muffled blur of his own voice as he tried to speak around the hands he hadn’t even realized had flown up to cover his mouth in shock. He swallowed once and dragged the limbs away from his face unceremoniously.

“Janus, I-I didn’t! I-” Remus started babbling, he needed to say sorry, but his mind flew through a hundred different apologies. A hundred different versions of the same sentiment tried to tumble out of his mouth in one big bundle of stuttering word vomit. “I-I-I am _so_ sor-”

Remus was cut off before he could finish getting the thought out when a familiar tune suddenly became their only focus. Neither man looked at all pleased at this particular repercussion of Remus’ actions. Though, neither seemed even the least bit surprised either.

_“~I know you, I walked with you once upon a dreaaamm~”_

Both Janus and Remus knew exactly who was calling as soon as that tune played. He set the ringtone himself after all.

Of course he would be calling the moment he felt his soulmate in pain.

Janus gave Remus one last fearful look. Fearful of what? Remus wasn’t certain. Maybe of Roman. Maybe of the phone call or what could come of it. Or maybe it was just of Remus.

He was probably just scared of Remus now.

It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.

Remus could hear a nearly simultaneous click and beep noise that signaled the call had been connected. Janus had winced, trying to balance the phone in his real hand despite the pain and resolved to lean the damaged limb against the side of the desk for extra support, while he moved the rest of his form to curl in around the phone to appropriately hear.

“Hello my dear.... It’s always nice to hear your voice during the day, but don’t you have room to _absolutely dazzle_ with your endless talent as you practice for the upcoming show?”

There was a pause as Janus frowned.

“No Roman, I’m not changing the subject. How could I be? We haven’t moved past the greetings yet.”

Remus chewed his bottom lip and his hands kept clenching and unclencing and clenching and unclencing and he wantedwantedwantedwanted-

He wanted to do something to help. He wanted to take the phone from Janus’ pained limb and hold it up for him so Janus would no longer have that pinched look on his face that caused his eyebrows to knit together. Or better yet, he wanted to grab the phone straight from Janus’ grip and tell Roman to go to hell.

He didn’t do either of those things.

He almost tried, a hand involuntarily reached forward as soon as Janus tried to adjust himself, holding the phone away from his mouth as he shifted with strained, hard streams of air pushing out through his nose as he tried to force himself to breathe through the pain. However, as soon as Janus caught sight of Remus’ hand approaching his form he flinched and Remus immediately pulled it back and jump-stepped backwards as if he had been physically shocked.

Janus looked guilty at Remus reaction, but as Roman’s voice came over the sound of the phone’s speaker, he seemed resolved to push down whatever it was he was feeling to focus on the task at hand.

“I’m _fine_ Roman, just a small tumble. I simply lost my balance.”

Remus felt dirty. It wasn’t dirty like he’d worn the same clothes for three days straight or dirty like he dug his hands and feet into the earth outside in search for interesting materials for some of his work. He felt putrid and decaying, he felt infectious, like a gooping puss filled sore that was festering. Except he felt it in his gut. He felt like a squish ball full of awful, bad _badbadbad_ things was twirling and swirling and stretching around in his stomach, weighing it down and making everything slosh uncomfortably. He felt like he was rotten from the inside out.

“I just fell Ro, things happen sometimes. Please, how often do you just slip on the wood of the stage? ...No, Remus didn’t do _anything_ to me.”

Janus readjusted the phone to balance on the crook of his shoulder as he used his now injured hand to grab hold of the edge of the desk and pull himself into a standing position. Remus could see the strained look on his face as he forced himself to put all of the weight on that wrist despite the pain. Remus could see the tears building in the corner of his eyes, could see the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped down, could hear the soft, labored groan he tried to repress from his soulmate’s ears. Then with one last look in Remus’ direction, he was out the door.

“Stop making assumptions Roman, that’s not fair-”

That bad feeling felt like it was spreading, like it had hit his blood stream and was traveling to all parts of his body, suddenly he could feel the noxiousness all the way in his toes and his fingertips and his cheekbones. They were fighting again. It was about him. Again. It was hardly ever about anything else these days. While there was a time the two could hardly stand each other’s existences these days the two seemed to find some kind of peace in the other’s arms. Janus was Roman’s forever fan, his unyielding support through all things. Janus followed his every production, helped him memorize his lines, the two ran scenes together and would geek out about shows and theater and things Remus really didn’t care much about. In turn, Roman was Janus’ prince charming. The prince who would wake him with serenades and make him candle lit dinners. Roman quoted Shakespeare to him and remembered his favorite wines and chocolates, and all of the other expensive things that Remus neither liked much nor could terribly afford right now.

Somehow, someway, Remus was always ruining their happy ending with his presance alone. It didn’t matter that Roman often just wasn’t _there_ because he was off in a shared house with the other cast members of some movie production he was in, or even just gone from dawn until well into the dead of night due to the demands of rehearsals and stage productions that would sometimes be performed two or even three times a day. That said nothing of the time his troupe spent touring where he could be just gone for weeks or months at a time.

Remus was there.

For Janus’ sake, Remus stayed. He needed him.

They needed each other.

“I don’t need your help Roman, I’m fine! You have rehearsals to get back to and you can’t just go rushing off like some, some white knight or something!” Remus could hear Janus’ voice shouting through the door.

Maybe they didn’t need him.

The stool of his desk was in his hands before he even realized it. He wanted to take it, weaponize it, bang it against every surface and smash it all to pieces. It was a strain to stop himself from absolutely destroying any chance of getting back their security deposit. Even still, he couldn’t bring himself to simply put it down. He bit his own cheek, dug his nails into his hands and he wanted to scream. He tried to let it go. He really tried. Still, the stool was out of his grip and flung through the air before he realized it was going sideways and not down as he intended in his head. Its landing immediately shattered the mirror by his closet into hundreds of jagged, ugly pieces.

He heard the yelling stop.

Remus’ feet nearly ran into each other with how fast he sprinted to the door, clipping the lock shut and pressing his back the door for another layer of separation.

He couldn’t help it.

“Remus?” Janus’ voice sounded through the door, testing the handle with a jiggle.

He didn’t _mean_ to.

“Remus, please,” Janus said, jiggling the handle a little more desperately now as his voice started to take on a worried edge.

Remus just felt alone.

Janus rapped on the door once, twice, three times, trying to make certain he was heard when he said, “Please, Rem... don’t do this....”

So, _so_ alone.

Remus could hear Janus sigh from the other side and there was a low murmur that was distinctly Janus’ voice, but he couldn’t tell what was actually said. Instead he just let himself finally start to breathe again once he heard his friend’s receding footsteps. He couldn’t hurt him if they weren’t together.

Remus wondered if his soulmate ever felt alone.

They had to have though, right? To feel something like that. What else drives someone to drive a blade into their wrist? It wasn’t the kind of thing that normal, happy people did. People who were surrounded by love and support. Normal people.

Not that Remus ever understood much about being normal.

But he did understand something about not being alone.

Being alone was kind of a new development for him.

He had his brother and his best friend his entire life....

...until they had each other.

But then again his soulmate wasn’t alone either.

Remus was _right there_.

Waiting for them.

They just... didn’t know it yet he supposed.

He....

He had to let them know.

Remus saw the glint of the shattered mirrored pieces and suddenly was reminded of something.

He had to _make sure_ they knew.

Finally chancing moving up from the door to stand, Remus picked up the biggest, most craggy looking piece and studied it. It was shimmering and shattered and _beautiful_ in the way it caught the light. Only his own reflection marred the jagged surface as he studied it. It shook in his right hand as waves of ghost pain still crawled up and down his arm. He clutched his hand around it until some of the pointed tips dug into the fleshy part of his palm with the tiniest beads of blood. It was perfect.

Without another moments hesitation he drove it into the skin of his left arm, knowing the other would be too marred for them to understand. The feeling was painful, yes, but also very familiar. He’d felt it many times over the years as the familiar drag finally left the pooling red it always felt like it should. His cuts weren’t random or desperate the way his soulmates so often were. The more he cut, the more letters began to form onto his skin as he tried to send him a response to their many _many_ calls for help.

I M

Remus gritted his teeth. He could worry about the dentist bullshit later, right now the fucker stung, but it was sure to get the attention that he was trying so hard to obtain... the attention he craved.

H E R E

He started to feel a little dizzy as the blood pooled from the cuts. Despite the pain being agonizingly familiar, the blood loss was a new feeling. He’d never self-harmed on purpose this way before, Janus and Roman never would have allowed it, but they weren’t here right now to stop him now were they? Anyway, was it really self harm when it was for the sake of someone else?

P R O M I S

The world went black around him before he could start on the final letter.

* * *

SAFETY BREAK!

* * *

It was disorienting as fuck when the next thing he knew everything was white. His eyes... hurt? They did and they didn’t and they did. They felt fuzzy and unfocused and there was a dull... something. He tried opening them, but found himself unsuccessful, like his eyelids and brain were having a disconnect.

Oh wait, no his eyes were already open.

That made sense he supposed.

He was just staring at something light and bright and blinding.

He closed them again, trying to block out the disorientation it was making him feel. Remus tried shuffling slightly to turn his head and then everything just _felt_ and he groaned. Suddenly there was a sound... no a voice and a pressure around his hand. He tried turning toward it, but as soon as his shoulder lifted even slightly it seemed to disobey his mental command and flop uselessly back down. It took him a second to remember that his neck could turn and he was able to finally face... whatever it was.

“Rem?” A deep, rumbly voice whispered.

Hmmmmm, he knew that voice. Whowhowho? Janus? No. Not Janus, too deep, much rumble. Not smooth and slithery like his friend’s. It sounded so very familiar, but Remus was having trouble putting a face to it.

“Bro? You awake?” The voice asked in the same sort of tone.

Bro? Bro bro bro Robro Roro. Oh! Ro? Ro!

Yes, that made sense! That’s where he knew that voice from.

Remus felt victorious at this realization. It was _no wonder_ he wasn’t recognizing it. It was Roman’s voice, but also so very _not_ Roman’s voice. It was Roman’s voice when he was passed over for the part of Hamlet their freshman year and Remus fixed it by taking his brother joyriding on their bikes that night. It was Roman’s voice after he got dumped in high school just before prom and when some of the kids at school tried to tease him about it, Remus fixed the problem with a hockey stick from the gym, not giving two shits about his subsequent suspension. It was Roman’s voice when it became croaky and strained from crying.

“Mmmmm, you’re fuzzy Ro,” Remus said and reached out lightly booped Roman’s nose with his whole open hand.

“That would be the drugs talking Remus,” Roman said around Remus’ palm in his face. It made Remus laugh. “I’m glad this is all very funny for you.”

“You used to be funny too Ro,” Remus said stretching his arms waaaaaay above his head now that he remembered how to do it. “‘m miss ‘t.”

“...I know Rem,” Roman muttered hand held something between his hands a little tighter as he frowned.

Remus frowned too, but it felt like a different frown. Angry frown. He mad. He wanted to whap Roman and make him an angry boi too. Angry was better than sad he decided.

Remus tried to go through his whap plan, but his arm flopped over at the attempt.

There was a moment of silence where the two brothers just stared at each other, before Roman absolutely cracked. Roman leaned his forehead against whatever it was that he was holding as he broke down in giggle-snorts that shook his shoulders and shook Remus’ whole arm and oh! Roman was holding _his_ hand.

Angry Roman may be better than sad Roman, but laughing Roman was the _absolute best_.

Remus grinned in pride because making Roman laugh was his shining achievement. It didn’t matter how many publishers rejected his books, he knew it would be fine as long as he could still make his bro laugh and get that crooked grin that absolutely lit up his whole face in joy. It was several long moments before Roman could calm out of his stream of laughter, mainly because every time he tried Remus would purposefully make a stupid face at him and Roman’s whole fit would start back over again.

Roman did eventually calm down and Remus conceded that his brother needed to breathe eventually, probably. When he did though, he looked exhausted and let himself lay against the edge of Remus’ magical booster bed that kept him propped up so he could sit up while he couldn’t sit up. Roman stared at him with a look Remus just... hadn’t seen directed at him in a long time. A little smile and the corners of his eyes crinkled in a way that Roman did when he was grateful for something and overall his expression just looked like... fondness.

It only lasted a few seconds, or moments, or seconds, it was hard to tell when everything was still this fuzzy, but then something dark passed over Roman’s eyes and suddenly he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“You scared us Rem,” Roman muttered, staring down at the hand he was still holding, but... not the hand? No his arm. You weirdo, its just an arm. “You scared us real bad.”

Hmmmm.... sounds fake.

Remus decided to tell him as much.

“Nah.”

Then something strange happened. Roman’s face jerked up and he stared down into Remus’ eyes with anger, no- fury, no- _ferocity_ in a way that Remus wasn’t certain he had ever seen before. His eyes were absolutely _burning_ and Remus wondered if the mythological gods themselves were somewhere hidden behind that stare.

“Remus, you almost _died!_ You almost... you almost _left_ _me behind_!” Roman’s voice was still low, still quiet, but there was an undertone to it that sounded as if his voice was harnessing the unbridled power of a hurricane. But then all at once Roman’s shoulders fell and the storm was over, leaving behind a man with bloodshot eyes, tear stains still sitting on his cheeks, and deep circles that told a story of sheer exhaustion. “Why?”

Remus wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Like... wasn’t it obvious? Didn’t he understand that Remus was in the way? Roman always seemed to think so before, didn’t he?

“Didn’t try to die,” Remus said, but then paused at the thought. He didn’t... did he? Maybe he did? Maybe he didn’t care that much about the outcome at the time, living or dying. “Jus’... didn’ really matter.”

“Remus... what do you mean?” Roman asked him with a look that Remus’ foggy brain just didn’t understand at all. It was like he was putting on a mask, but there was something _strong_ in his expression, but Remus didn’t know what.

Remus held up his right arm for Roman to see, still covered in ink.

“It always feels like they must be all alone, ya know? And I was all alone. So at least they knew we could be alone together.” Did that make sense? Remus wasn’t sure that made any sense.

“Alone?” Roman asked with an expression of bafflement, “But... you’re always with Janus.”

“‘nd he’s always waiting for you,” Remus said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Doesn’t need me.”

Roman’s eyebrows knit together in the way that he used to do when he finally figured out _how_ he was supposed to do his math homework, but then still didn’t want to go through the process of actually _doing_ it.

“Where’s he anyway?” Remus asked sleepily, finally starting to register he was in a hospital. “You leave him home?”

Roman’s expression of incredulousness didn’t change, as he blinked once at Remus before reaching forward to shove at the pudgy part of Remus’ cheek, pushing his face so Remus was forced to look in the other direction.

And there Janus was, curled up in the closest thing the room seemed to have to a plush chair, meaning it looked hard and scratchy, but was upholstered so it almost counted. He was asleep, but with a pinched expression on his face. His head was leaned against the arm of the chair at an angle that could not be comfortable and his knee was tucked against his chest and he looked absolutely terrible. If Roman looked exhausted, then Janus downright looked like he was the one in need of medical treatment.

“Rem... I love him,” Roman muttered behind Remus and the twin wanted to respond with a big ‘ _duh’_ in reply, but didn’t get the chance before Roman continued. “But that was never supposed to come between you two.”

Suddenly, Remus didn’t have a response anymore, he was left oddly wordless.

“After all, what’s romance compared to the two terrors of Gainesville high, the delinquent heroes who recklessly protected those who couldn’t protect themselves? Even me?”

Since when did Roman even _know_ about all that?

“You know, I was jealous of you sometimes. Soulmates or not, it always seemed like you and Janus had some kind of special connection, something I couldn’t even begin to understand if I tried.”

What? What in the actual fuck? Roman? Jealous of him? Since fucking when?!

“It wasn’t supposed to come between us either... I didn’t mean for it to, but maybe it’s my fault. I just...”

That was quite enough of that.

Remus finally started to gain a little more feeling, enough that he was beginning to be able to move his shoulders, so he pushed himself back around to face Roman and reached for him-

-to whap him in the face.

“No.”

Roman gave his brother an annoyed stare after the impact, but Remus was pleased to announce that the dark, hollow look that started to settle in his eyes had vacated the premises.

“Psh, like you could get rid of me if you tried bitch,” Remus said, a big grin stretching out across his face. It felt real this time. “Face it Ro, you’re stuck with me.”

Roman finally smiled just to smile, it was small and tentative, but it was there and it was real and there were few things that could have made Remus happier than that smile coupled with Roman then mumbling, “Yeah, I hope so.”

Then they shared a silence. It was a different kind of silence than he had shared just earlier with Janus. It wasn’t desperate or broken or melancholic, this was warmth and hope. This was two people who realized the other hadn’t given up on them yet. This was pure, platonic love in its simplest form because they were family and they were brothers and nothing could _ever_ change that. They would be okay. Remus was sure of it.

Roman gave Remus’ hand a supportive squeeze on the palm that had Remus bracing himself.

“Janus and I have already discussed it-” That couldn’t be good. “-and we mutually agree in that we think you should start seeing a therapist Rem. Just... someone to talk to about all this.”

Remus was sure if he was approached about it any other time he would have had some big, dramatic reaction. Things would be broken, people might be broken, you know, fun times all around. However, he was still feeling fuzzy. It wasn’t clear anymore if it was still the drugs or just the sheer amount of support that he was receiving that he thought was _missing_ up until now, but what ever it was had him simply swallow once and say, “Okay.”

* * *

It had been two and a half months since Remus was discharged from the hospital and to be totally honest? The boy was _thriving_! Remus was always one to bounce back quickly and not let things keep him down, but having a person whose literal job was to listen to him?

That was like... _the best thing ever_.

Honestly? Remus suddenly didn’t understand why everyone wasn’t doing it. It didn’t hurt either that the receptionist was absolutely adorable, laughed at his shitty jokes, and always had cookies saved just for him before each session. His sessions had become a highlight of his week and the routine of it brought him comfort. Something he could trust. Even on the bad days.

Dr. Picani was just... nice. Really nice. He listened to Remus talk about all of the good things going on, like the new book he was getting published and how he and Roman had run off on a mischievous adventure (much to Janus’ dismay) and how he was really _finally_ happy that Janus and Roman had found each other. Roman had even begun to save up for an RV so when the actor went on tour, Janus could go with him if he wanted and still have a comfortable place to exist, that was _theirs._ Remus thought it was honestly a brilliant idea on his twins part and was considering donating a chunk of the proceeds from his newest release towards it in support.

The best part about Dr. Picani? Was that he still listened even to Remus even on his bad days, even about the bad _things_. There was an entire session that Remus had essentially broken down and gone off in dark, descriptive detail about some of his more gruesome dreams and fears and just... thoughts in general. When he looked up, he was expecting a look of disgust or horror or some kind of general rejection.

But it simply wasn’t there.

Dr. Picani just sat on the edge of his seat, elbow propped on his knee and chin in palm with a neutral, but attentive stare as Remus went on. There was no revulsion or outrage or anything like he was used to seeing. Even when he was finished the doc didn’t tell him he was awful, or broken, or anything like that. He just asked him questions about it, how often he had thoughts like that, what kinds of things triggered those kinds of thoughts, etc. He’d never really considered the why or how he got them before, just that they were there.

When their sessions ended each week, Dr. Picani would still smile at him with an encouraging reminder that he would still see him the following week and Remus always left feeling... well... heard. It was a new feeling.

Speaking of new.

Cutie alert, straight ahead.

Remus suddenly took advantage of his height as he was able to come up just behind a hoodie covered, purple haired, skinny jean clad ball of darkness that was _exactly_ Remus’ aesthetic. It seemed cute, dark, and emo hadn’t noticed his presence yet either, so he used that to his advantage too.

“Boo,” he whispered just behind the guy’s ear and watched the man nearly fall over in shock as he turned toward Remus with big frightened eyes that Remus returned with a shit-eating grin. Mischievousness was a way of life after all.

The hooded man blinked at Remus owlishly and it wasn’t clear yet if he wasn’t still going to fall over. “You!”

“Me!” Remus cheered in agreement, not at all certain what he was agreeing to.

“After all this time... I... you... I didn’t think I’d see you again,”

“Hm?” Remus asked, tilting his head to the side, trying to process the mumbled words.

The man in front of him looked down at the ground and pulled his shoulders in as if trying to hide. “You... uh... you saved me... back in school.”

Remus blinked, once, twice, and then finally the barest flashes of memory started to click into place. He remembered a teen in an over-sized hoodie, a different one, one that went halfway down the dude’s thighs. To be fair though, he was much shorter then. Though, the sheer length might have been from all of the tugging the fabric suffered as the kid was literally surrounded by a circle of shitheads pushing at him, pulling and ripping his clothes, and just generally treating him like he was their stand in basket ball. Seeing this, Remus pushed his way into the center and decided to add a game of his own. He played a mean game of knock out until he and the other teen were the only two standing.

Remus also remembered he couldn’t stay long though, blood poured down his face from the tooth he lost in the fight and he remembered leaving quickly after that as it seemed to freak the other teen out. Remus was still missing that tooth. He should probably get that looked at some time.

“No shit!” Remus cheered, putting his hands on his hips as took a friendly, but prideful pose. That was one of his shining memories of high school. Only the times he’d saved Roman’s ass back in the day really stood out to him more in ‘things to be proud of‘ category of his time as a rebellious gay teen. Not that much changed since then, now he was just a rebellious gay adult. Remus quirked an eyebrow at him. “Looks like you’ve been fine since then.”

And _fine_ he was with long, dark lashes and eyes that were big, and soulful blue that almost looked purple as the sunlight twinkled against them. Honestly? Remus was sure it wasn’t what the guy was going for with his makeup, but the dark shadow only accentuated how truly bright those eyes were. Truly a gaze to get lost in.

And he god damn would if he let himself.

“I’m Remus by the way!” Remus said, holding a hand out to his his new... friend? crush? victim?... it was too be seen.

“...Virgil,” the quieter man responded and hesitantly accepted the hand to shake.

SURPRISE!

Remus threaded their hands together with a smirk and began pulling him toward the door Remus saw Virgil standing and staring at as he approached. There was no escape for him now!

“Wait-!”

“Pattycakes! My darling, my sweet, the dearest love of my life and generous bestower of cookies!” Remus called, tugging Virgil in behind him. “I need a favor!”

“There’s extra cookies in the cabinet underneath the coffee maker,” Patton said, having not looked up from his computer yet as he was in the middle of typing away at something. He typically greeted guests enthusiastically, but he knew Remus didn’t mind waiting.

“While that’s useful information I _absolutely_ will not forget, I need another favor. I found a stray!”

Patton hit a final key with a flourish, presumably submitting his current document and finally looked up from he screen. Then he blinked.

“We’re boyfriends now!”

Virgil gasped, and looked up at Remus slack jawed, with fear and incredulousness, and... something else in his eyes. “Wh-what?!”

Patton snickered, and reached for Virgil’s hand with a sympathetic pat. “Don’t worry too much, he’s like this with everyone.”

“Awwww, Patty if you wanted my attention you know all you had to do was ask,” Remus said, leaning in close to Patton’s personal space with a flirty smile and bedroom eyes.

Patton simply bopped his nose and side-stepped him, heading for the coffee maker. “Can I get you some?”

“Hell yeah!” Remus cheered.

“Not you,” Patton replied with a stern, almost parental look that still held a twinge of fondness in it.

Remus wasn’t allowed any more coffee after last time.

“Uh... yes please!” Virgil replied, rubbing his arm. It looked to be a nervous habit of some sort.

Remus didn’t know about that _at all_.

If Janus were here and he said it out loud, his friend have given him a flat stare that would have made him laugh.

Okay, he laughed anyway. It was funny in his head too.

Patton nodded, ignoring Remus, and poured the steaming black liquid into a paper cup before he grabbed a couple packets of sugar and a couple of the cream singles. With his bounty in hand, he walked back over and set all of the items onto the desk for Virgil to prepare how he liked it best.

“Wait... don’t you?” Virgil started to ask, staring down at Patton’s now vacant hands.

Remus gently shoulder bumped him, stealing his attention away. “Don’t worry about it too much, Patatat’s just a sweetheart and all that nice gushy stuff. Doesn’t even drink coffee, so it’s specifically for visitors-”

Patton shot him a raised brow and crossed his arms.

Remus pouted, “for guests _minus me_.”

Remus patted Virgil’s shoulder encouragingly when he began to chew on his bottom lip, but had to pull away to stand instead in front of Patton once more. He still needed to seduce the receptionist into getting his way after all.

Patton and Remus truly had a weird friendship. It shouldn’t work, but the two seemed to understand each other, almost instinctively. It was personal conservatism meeting a truly liberal spirit as the two bonded over a love of shitty jokes, general silliness, and an unspoken mutual respect.

“So about that favor-”

“I’m all ears,” Patton said with a stupid grin as he literally tugged on his ears with both hands. Remus let out a snrk at the awful joke that Patton was waaay too fucking proud of, but it somehow made it all the funnier.

He felt truly gooey on the inside though when Remus heard the little emo bundle of feels in the corner started giggling, a soft, musical _adorable_ laugh.

It took _all_ of Remus’ self-control not to stomp over and demand Virgil do it again.

“Boyfriends indeed,” he heard Patton mutter and Remus rose an eyebrow at him, as if he hadn’t heard.

Dammit if Remus was gonna let the guy off easy and not explain it.

“Mm, doesn’t matter,” Patton said with a shrug, more than used to Remus’ looks by now. “So, that favor...”

“Right! I need you to cancel whatever session Virgil has, cause he’s comin’ in with me.”

“I dunno Remus,” Patton said with a doubtful glance at Virgil from the corner of his eyes. “I think I should check with Dr. Picani first.”

“You don’t think the doc can handle us both at once?” Remus asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Patton gave him a blank smile in return, pretending he didn’t understand what Remus was implying. They both knew he was a god damn liar though. Remus had heard the man try to hide his chuckle behind a cough at some of Remus’ dirtier jokes.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know the doc wont care!” Remus whined, shifting tactics.

Patton crossed his arms again.

“Ugh, _pleeeeaaaaasssssseee_!”

The p word always seemed to leave him _hot and_ _satisfied_ didn’t it?

“Don’t you aim those kinds of thoughts at me Remus Royal,” Patton said with a chastising finger waved in his direction. How the fuck even-

Patton glared at him again.

“How about this, you let Virgil in and I stop calling you my “ _Pat-dle Daddy”_ for a whole month!”

“A year.”

“Playing hard to get are we Pitterpat? _Three months._ ”

“ _Six,_ ” Patton said in a tone that you knew he was unmovable from. Remus wasn’t going to get a better offer.

“ _Fiiiine_ ,” Remus said with a sigh before turning a cheeky grin in Patton’s direction, “You know you’re gonna miss me though!”

“Hardly,” Patton said and barked out a laugh as Remus skipped back over to his old-new Virgil buddy and scooped back up the emo’s hand in his.

“Come on Virgey! Got someone I want you to meet!”

“Virgey?”

“Would you prefer if I just call you _mine_?” Remus asked with a smirk.

The hooded man holding Remus’ hand immediately choked on his coffee. “Virgey’s fine.”

Remus had to suppress the urge to pat his soft, floofy hair affectionately. Man this guy was cute. Remus pulled Virgil into the office where he knew Dr. Picani was already waiting for him. A glance at the clock showed he was only like... fifteen minutes late. Who cares?

“Virgy! Lemme introduce you to our meal-”

“It’s Emile,” the doctor corrected, standing up and immediately stretching a hand out to Virgil. “Dr. Emile Picani.”

“ _Pick any_ seat you want!” Remus said, gesturing to the couch that was set up to face Picani’s chair.

“Patton already beat you to that joke Remus,” the doctor informed him.

“That absolute _traitor_! I’m supposed to be the funny one in these parts!”

“Is... is he always like this?” Virgil asked, tentatively shaking the doctor’s hand.

“You get used to it,” Picani replied with a fond shake of his head. “So, this is unusual Remus, care to explain?”

Remus perked back up and came up behind Virgil to take his hand again. He was pleased to find that Virgil was already starting to automatically spread his fingers apart at the contact. Nice! He wasn’t accidentally traumatizing anyone today! Virgil even looked a little relieved as Remus took his hand.

“Found him on the sidewalk and decided to keep him doc,” Remus said with a grin at the head tilt Picani gave him that meant the doctor was particularly interested. “Cutie looked nervous, so I thought he could come to my appointment and see how it goes first hand. You know me doc, I’ve got nothin’ to hide.”

“Nervousness about seeing medical professionals is perfectly normal, particularly in countries without universal healthcare like this one,” Picani noted, scribbling something onto his clipboard.

“Because you’re an absolute terror in a sweater vest,” Remus said with a snort. He stopped himself though when a glance at Virgil showed the man looked _mortified_. Remus turned toward him and squeezed the hand still in his encouragingly. “I mean it! I still get nightmares about the homework he gives. Just wait, he’ll get you into meditations, and emotional journaling and SIGH _self-affirmations_ before you know it!”

Virgil was giggling again! Remus felt accomplished as hell too cause this time _he_ was the one to make him laugh! Remus felt... giddy and light, like he could soar just hearing that laugh.

“Did you just... actually say sigh?” Virgil asked him between giggles and Remus wanted to... he wanted to make him laugh more and he wanted to find a way to bottle the current atmosphere so he could keep it with him always. Remus wanted to find all of Virgil’s ticklish spots and blow raspberries on them until the cutie was laughing so hard that Remus would never forget the sound. He wanted to-

“Remus?” The doctor asked, effectively blacking out Remus’ train of thought.

What were they talking about again?

“Remus, you were scratching again. Do you have something you would like to share?” Dr. Picani asked him and Remus glanced down at his arm to find to his surprise, the doctor was right.

“I... uh... I just get itchy sometimes I guess?” Remus admitted, trying to explain as he pulled back his sleeve. Virgil let out a little gasp from his side and Remus knew he was probably freaking him out a bit with them, so he’d at least explain. “It’s not like I want a repeat of the experience or anything. Its just the fuckers itched like crazy as they were healing and I... I dunno, sometimes get phantom feelings of it?”

Remus glared down hard at message he tried to send his soulmate. The misspelled word still bugged him as an author on principle.

“Still mad that I passed out before the E though.”

Virgil snorted and Remus let his shoulders relax, knowing that he wasn’t sending the man into a disgusted panic attack.

“I knew it.”

All eyes were turned onto Virgil as he stared down at his and Remus’ joined hands. He seemed to realize they were waiting on him to reiterate because Remus felt Virgil’s hand tighten around his own in what felt like a search of support. Remus squeezed back automatically, more than happy to oblige him.

“I... uh... I know all about scars,” Virgil said and used his free hand to pull back his right sleeve, revealing an arm that was absolutely littered with tiny scars that contrasted as pale lines against his skin. They looked old, at least as old as Remus’ own, but the sheer number of them was setting off alarms in Remus’ brain.

Who _hurt_ this man?

Like hell if Remus was ever gonna let it happen again. Remus would loop himself around the man’s torso and accept his new fate as Virgil’s backpack if that’s what it took, dammit.

“I... uh... I guess I should be thanking you Remus,” Virgil said and Remus could have fallen over right there with the way his name sounded pouring out of such pretty lips. It was deep, smooth, and rich, like dark chocolate or the deep tones of a saxophone. Crush? What crush? “For uh... for saving me... twice.”

Twice?

Remus could only stare, racking his brain for just _what_ Virgil was talking about when Virgil released Remus’ hand to pull back his left sleeve this time.

Oh.

_Oh!_

There on Virgil’s arm was a familiar message that almost matched Remus’ own. It was the same words, the same jacked spelling, just the lines were a little cleaner. Leaning in to look a little closer and Remus found that the words, _his_ words were _tattooed on Virgil's arm_.

“I uh... I knew way back when... when you saved me. I had a massive tooth ache and found yours in the hall. I was uh... too nervous to approach you then. Missed an opportunity though cause I didn’t even know your name... and I couldn’t find you.”

Virgil stared up at him with a look that was full of fear, and hope, and regret and Remus wanted to grab him and smush him in his arms until only joy lived in those eyes again. Remus knew right then that he would take the pain of the world for him all over again.

“I tried...” Virgil admitted, breaking the eye contact. “Never stopped really....”

Remus almost never cried, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t feel his eyes start to water.

He was here!

His soulmate!

He was... he was okay.

He was _alive_.

His soulmate was okay and he was _right here_!

Virgil scooted closer and re-linked their hands, all on his own this time and Remus?

Remus’ heart felt full.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far and you've read my other work, you may have figured out that this is a companion fic to "Count Down For What?" Basically an AU of it. One where things aren't as kind. Roman is the more successful brother because he found his soulmate at a young age and had Janus' encouragement and support pushing him forward. Remus is overburdened with guilt that's not really his to bare. Virgil never met Patton and Logan... well... we don't talk about that. 
> 
> Still, September is Suicide Prevention Month and I wanted to honor that somehow. The two biggest leading contributors for suicide is isolationism and feeling like a burden and I wanted to illustrate both here. I wanted to show that even somewhere where everything goes wrong, it doesn't have to be over yet. There's still hope and warmth and love waiting in your future. But you have to stick around to get there.
> 
> In other news, I'm booking a therapy appointment for the first time in years. Just waiting for the office to get back to me with the specific time. I'm honestly okay. Nothing horrible going on in my head despite what you might think from this. My partner's started going and started being more open and I'm... not super good at that. So I'm going in to try and work on that. Thanks for all of the support on that btw peach if you ended up reading this far.
> 
> Also, probably not the best story to mention it, but I have a tumblr. Same name. Treeni. If you wanna come and bother me with questions, comments, or even just to yell at me I basically keep my ask box open. I also do some fan art and stuff. If you follow me, be aware I reblog a lot of stupid stuff.
> 
> Also, I will be continuing through the prompts in order, rather than skipping to today's prompt. I'm gonna try to catch up, but this one took a lot out of me with both the length it reached and the subject. Also my aunt's birthday was in there and I got very little writing done that day. So keep an eye out for that because I'm going to be posting all month.
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> LLF Comment Builder
> 
>   
> Author Responses  
> -This author replies to comments.
> 
> Whisper  
> -If you don’t want a reply, for any reason at all but want to feel safe leaving your thoughts, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


End file.
